


Call Bobby

by reigningqueenofwords



Series: A Father's Gift [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 17:52:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18481336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords





	Call Bobby

TJ had only been 9 months the night that you’d listened to your father meet the hellhound. Pictures were all he’d never know of him, much like you and Sam when it came to Mary. It wasn’t fair, and you were numb for the first few days. The house had a gloomy feel to it, as if joy was wrong, and blasphemous.

What seemed to snap you out of it was when TJ walked from the coffee table, to the sofa where you were sitting. For the first time since that day, you smiled, and the tears you felt weren’t of sadness. “Good job, baby!” You chuckled as he laughed.

His laughter is what helped drag everyone from their fog, one by one. It was infectious, and you all knew that John would have wanted you to move on, and raise him the best you could.

Just two weeks after the death of your father, you were back in school, back into the routine that had been created at the beginning of the year. You had a few friends, who could tell something was wrong, but how did you explain that? How did you tell them that he was dragged to hell because he sold his soul to save you and your son? It was easier to say nothing, than think of a lie.

Living with Bobby wasn’t something that the Winchester kids wanted to do for the rest of their lives. So, right after TJ had his second birthday, you and Dean got a little house together. It wasn’t anything amazing, but it was safe, and it was their home. It was a three bedroom, with a cute little backyard. 

You worked third shift, so you could get the morning with TJ. About the time he went down for a nap early in the afternoon was when you’d crawl into bed. Dean worked the morning shift, getting home about the time TJ was waking up from his nap. He’d get him a snack, and either bring him to the park, or outback to play.

Sam had gotten into Stanford, and you missed him. Him and Dean got into a stupid fight before he went, so he only called when he knew Dean was at work. It would blow over, it had to.

Dating wasn’t a top priority to you- in fact, it didn’t really matter to you one way or the other. However, you started opening up to the idea of it when a fellow co-worker asked you on a date. _Completely_ aware that you had a toddler at home. The two of you went on a few dates, and he became your best friend. It was mutually agreed upon that nothing more was there.

The first Christmas after you moved into your little house, you made Bobby drive the half an hour to the three of you. It wasn’t a big Christmas, and the adults all agreed that they didn’t need presents- everything was for TJ.  

Now and then, it would look like he was talking to thin air, but when you asked, he would simply smile and tell you he was talking to a friend. So, you brushed it off. Kids had imaginary friends- right?

Before you knew it, he was learning how to ride a bike with training wheels, going to preschool, making his own little friends, and turning more and more into a little man. TJ looked up to Dean when it came to clothes, but always loved Sam telling him stories about college. At least the kid friendly ones.

It was Christmas break, and the two of you had just come in from playing in the snow. You’d taken the week off of work, and taking that to your complete advantage. “Uncle Dean!!” The very loud 5 year old yelled as soon as his little feet were in the house, making you laugh.

“Yeah, buddy?” Dean came in, chuckling.

TJ grinned. “Can you help me out of this stuff? I feel like a _marshmallow_.” He pouted. “And it’s hot.” He added almost as an afterthought.

Taking off your scarf, you smiled. “Justin will be over later, kiddo. Don’t get _too_ worn out with Uncle Dean.” You reminded him, earning a grin. You’d been dating Justin just over a year and a half, and TJ adored him. He hadn’t met him until six months into the relationship, which Justin had understood. His mother had been a teen mother, as well, and she hadn’t had the same ideas. Before he was ten, he could recall a few guys his mother introduced him to.

“YAY!” He was wiggling, making life difficult on Dean, who was laughing. 

“GUYS!” Sam walked into the house, his loud voice alerting them to his presence. You heard his bag hit the ground before he moved to where Dean was now trying to wrestle TJ, and you were unlacing your snow boots. “Wow. He’s gonna beat you in no time, Dean.” He laughed.

Dean shot him a playful glare. “ _You_ wanna try to get him out of this snow gear crap? Kids wirey!”

After they’d finally managed to get him out of all his snow gear, Sam put him over his shoulder and brought him to his room, laughing. He didn’t get to see TJ all that much, so he enjoyed the moments they did have. “Alright, what pajamas will it be tonight?” He asked, dropping the small boy on the bed. 

* * *

You were making hot cocoa, and Dean was getting some snacks out when there was a knock at the door. Glancing at the clock, you furrowed your brow. Justin didn’t get out of work for another twenty minutes, and even then, there was a 15 minute drive from there. “Watch the milk, Dean?” You asked, earning a nod before heading towards the front door. Your socks muffled any noise you would have made on the floor, causing whoever it was to knock again. 

Turning the handle, your eyes went wide at the man on your front porch. “Hi, princess.” His voice was rough, and worn.

“ ** _DEAN_**!” You screamed, turning towards the stairs as he came out of the kitchen, gun in hands.

“Wait, it’s me!” John reached out to grab your arm, but Dean pulled you behind him just before his hand reached you. “I _swear_. I’m telling the truth.”

Sam came rushing down the stairs, eyes wide. “What the hell?” He furrowed his brows.

You had a grip on Dean’s shirt, fear in your eyes. There was no way in hell that was your father. “Where’s TJ?” You asked, looking up at Sam.

He gave you a wink, and knew he was safe. It was a system that you’d worked out right around the time TJ started talking. This way, you weren’t saying where he was, but each of you knew. Dean licked his lips, jaw clenched. “Call Bobby, Y/N.” He told you, his eyes never leaving John.


End file.
